City lights twinkle far below in moe amasuka. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, moe amasuka,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at moe amasuka!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “moe amasuka, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.